Cipher is Trying
by Widget Power
Summary: Hopefully my first Gravity Falls fanfic will blossom into a BillDip. It's not easy to reform a demon, but the ponies have done it, so why not the Pines?
1. Chapter 1

I twist my human hands around the wooden handle of the broom, trying to keep my eyes low as the customer walks in.

 _"_ _You may not appear in your…uh…Dorito form. Only as a human. People remember you, you know. They remember you as the demon who tried to destroy us all. So keep a low profile."_

 _"_ _Right. Okay, I think I can do that."_

I flicker my eyes up. It's some random person with a shirt on. That's seriously all I have going on the guy. He's a human. There's no difference between one and the other.

 _"_ _Second. No magic. I mean, maybe when we close for the night you can use teleportation, maybe clean something with magic, but no making anything. No creation of life, or of absence of life."_

 _"_ _Oh come on, you're killing me here!"_

 _"_ _Do you want a home, Cipher?"_

 _"_ _Okay, alright, alright, I can do that, Shooting Star…"_

I'm awkward with a broom. It's still weird to hold stuff with these hands. It's like controlling centipedes independently. Three-jointed centipedes. I'm trying my hardest not to fling dust into the air, so I basically stay in one little two-foot radius, sweeping every iota of grime into a tiny little cylindrical pyramid.

 _"_ _And lastly, you can't invade anyone's room. No reading our books, or looking through our diaries, or clicking around on our computers."_

 _"_ _You're just inviting it at this point."_

 _"_ _Cipher, I have a pig. He is armed."_

 _"_ _Point taken. But I'm in a human. Where will I sleep? On this…is this seriously papier Mache? This is a papier Mache skull. I can totally get you a real one, no sweat. Seriously?"_

 _"_ _We have an extra room. Just sleep in there. You'll be free to customize it, make it whatever you want. Within the boundary of the human dimension."_

 _"_ _I guess that's alright. I can live with that."_

 _"_ _Welcome to the Mystery Shack, Bill."_

I adjust the hat I've put on my head. It's sliding off slowly. Usually I have some magic force holding it on. I'm not allowed to use it here. I guess… Maybe it's weird for humans to have floating hats? I've seen people with hats attached to their heads with wires, so who are they to judge the rest of the human race?

Long story short, I've been reformed. It took a lot of persuasion on both of our parts, plus three musical interludes and a short theatrical performance, but now I work and live full-time at the Mystery Shack as a thirteen-year-old human. I guess I'm not good with making up humans, so I took inspiration from the Internet, which is one of the most beautiful things the human race has ever made. They told me to look kind of like "Neil Patrick Harris", who's an actor. I'm blonde, lanky, and dapper as hell. I kept my hat as best as I could, and Shooting Star tied my bowtie. Pine Tree had the idea of putting a white eyepatch over one eye, to keep my one-eyed thing going. Shooting Star and I went out and bought me a yellow and black wardrobe.

I probably look like I have some cleanliness disorder. Or like I'm thinking very dark thoughts. In reality, I'm paused, holding the broom with both my hands, and staring intently into my dust mound. I get a stare, so I take the chance to walk over to a different place and sweep another little pile. Pine Tree's actually doing something useful with his broom, however. He gives me a rough look. I shrug at him and wiggle my fingers apologetically.

The shop closes. The last straggler leaves with a geode. I'm left alone in the shop, still sweeping a little mound of dust. I've become so entranced in it that Question Mark has to shake me out of it.

The shop closing seems to be the release of the magnetic pull between the Pines family. The children shut themselves into their rooms, the teenager drives off, Stan Pines goes off to buy or steal something or another, and I'm left to my own devices. So I explore.

There's the damn papier mache skull. I pick it up and test it, rolling it from hand to hand. Before I know what I'm doing, I hurl it into the wall across from me and it shatters into a million pieces.

It takes me a second. What was I thinking? There was no anger or pleasure in that. All it was was an automatic release. I kneel down in the shards and wave my hand over them, surrounding each in a blue aura, about ready to piece the thing back together when I think of something. I toss the shattered bits into the trash can and wave the human hands around in some motion that seems to match with the summoning of the skull. It's clean, white, and empty. It settles down in my hands like a silken orb. I drag my fingers across the smooth, soft surface of the bone. Human hands may be almost completely useless, but the sense of touch just one of those things to live for. I reset the new skull perfectly where the original one was.

The rest of the shop is pretty familiar to me. I use my fairly new fingers to feel around the inside of a geode, shivering slightly at the slight pain of pressing my finger roughly into the crystal and drawing a tiny bead of blood. I pull my hand away, staring at the little quivering drop of blood. I touch it with another finger and watch it roll silently down my finger. I wipe it off and walk around some more.

Pine trees.

I scan the shelf. For some reason, I had never noticed it. It's a single file line of Pine Tree's caps. They're classically overpriced and an exact carbon copy of the last. I pick one up and tilt it around, dropping it twice in the process. I'm not sure why, but it intrigues me. I remove my little hat and replace it with the cap, surprised at how comfortable it is. I teleport to the nearest mirror.

I look like a straight haired, blonde Pine Tree with an eyepatch and a suit. Okay, so I look nothing like him. Who cares?

"BILL!"

I recognize the voice as Shooting Star. I look to the left, then spin around on my heel, staring right at the Pines siblings. I'm inadvertently in their room.

"Oh! Sorry. I just…I was…" I look up at the hat on my head. "Yeah, I'll go now."

I wheel around on my heel and yank the door open awkwardly, closing it with a slam and trying awkwardly to stumble down the stairs as normally as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

In my room, I model the hat in thirty different perspectives. "Wow…It kind of suits me…" I mutter to myself, smirking. "I wonder if Stan'll let me keep it? Or maybe it's just better he doesn't know?"

Thinking aloud is a habit I've kind of picked up as a human. Perhaps it's a little less hemmed-in than just humming and grumbling to myself. It feels better to present it to an audience consisted of a bunch of cobwebs…

"Hey, Bill? Mind if I come in?"

There's a soft knock on the door and the soft blue brim of a hat poking in. "Uh… you kept it the same, then?"

"I didn't actually say you could come in yet, but whatever, go ahead, invade my space, what do I have to hide?"

"Uh, right." Pine Tree walks in and closes the door by leaning on it. I remove my hat and dip myself into a steep bow, trying to control the muscles enough to keep myself from falling on the floor. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Listen, I guess the whole thing having to do with…" He gestures to my hand. "The hat—it's going to need one more rule. Keep it all you want, but don't go near Grunkle Stan, okay? He will flip and you will be out of the job." He gives me a serious look.

"Okay, alright. No hat when with Stan Pines unless I want myself fired. Got it." I actually let this stew around in my head for a moment. I guess I really want to keep this job. It's the first time I've ever had real friends. Teasing the air between me and the turned-around back of Stan Pines wouldn't help me out with that at all. Better I keep it in my room.

"Why did you tell me all of that?"

"Oh." I blink and realize my predicament. "I kind of developed a habit of thinking out loud. It's easier to do it that way in a three-dimensional body."

"Ah. I see. So your internal thoughts really do care about keeping us as friends?" He smirks.

"I guess so. What does it matter?" I place the hat on top of an empty bronze frame.

"It doesn't. Just… Try not to think out loud in front of…Like, anyone. It's creepy, you look psycho, and you can't go spilling information like that. Like if you go talking like that, Stan will know that you're stealing from him. Or, if we eventually let you in on some important information, then you had better be able to keep your mouth shut. Or else…duct tape."

"Haha. Well, I'll try."

"Well…Try harder. Also, why did you keep the room this way?"

"I liked it, I guess." Yeah, it's kind of like when someone paints you a picture. They give it solely to you. They poured their heart out for you. You wouldn't add anything to that picture to make it "better" because it's already the best it can get.

"Wow, Cipher, that's…sweet. Also, how much duct tape again?"

"Huh?" It takes me a second. "Oh. Yeah. Right. I'll work on it."

He leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Maybe a little OOC on Bill Cipher here, but he's cute anyway!)**

"Captain's log, star date…" I check my watch for dramatic effect. "Second day in the Mystery Shack." I chuckle to myself and straighten my black bowtie.

"So you did pick something up from all that Star Trek I showed you!" Shooting Star crashes into my room, flopping backwards onto my bed. "Blop. What's up, Cipher?"

I look at her for a moment. "How long were you listening to me?"

"Like forever." She does a weird handstand. "Hey! After you're done with your shift, maybe we can go on a Mystery Hunt together! It'll be FUN! I even decorated you an invitation!" She tosses a piece of paper to me. It's pink, and the sparkly stuff is all over my hands. I consider it, but decide against it. I'd need Pine Tree's authority.

"Dipper's the one who invited you, silly!" On "Silly", she pokes my nose. Right. Stop thinking out loud. But Pine Tree was paranoid that I may ruin something…

I decide not to question it any more than need be. If there's a catch, so be it. I agree to go and re-dress myself in something that won't tear or get ruined by the thorns and vines in the forest. Black sweatpants are kept in the back of my wardrobe. I also put on a black turtleneck sweater and a yellow vest. Just for good measure, I stuff the pine tree hat into the inside of the vest. I head out once my shift is over.

"Hey, Bill." Pine Tree doesn't look up from his journal. Shooting Star, however, is struggling not to burst out in laughter.

"What?"

She holds a finger to her lips and ruffles around inside my vest, placing my hat on my head. She chuckles and taps her brother on the shoulder. He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. "Hate to break it to you…"—He clears his throat suggestively—"…Pine tree, but…uh… Blonde's not your color."

"Hah. Hah. I'm laughing. See? Genuine." I drag the corners of my mouth upwards into a grimace that makes all three of us burst out laughing. "So we're twins for the day. Great. First can I know what exactly we're going to do?"

"That's for us to know and YOUUUUUUUU—" Shooting Star pokes me in the cheek. "—to find out!"

"I already want to throw myself off a cliff."

"Awwww don't be that way, Bill!" She skips around Pine Tree. "I think you'll have a great time!"

We set off into the forest, Pine Tree silent and catlike as he slips between branches and steps in the perfect places. I follow as quietly as possible, but I'm a clumsy human, so I manage to step on every loud thing we come across. I don't know _how_ Shooting Star does it, but she's gymnastically swerving and avoiding every obstacle in a weird little dance.

Eventually the forest begins to thin out and give way to flowers, soft soil, and brightly flowering trees. When Shooting Star pulls a green curtain of lichen back, it's a cascade of colors that my human eyes strain to look at.

A deep blue marsh, covered by overhanging willow trees and wisteria flowers, lies before me. Shadows of neon creatures dart just beneath the surface of the water, creating boiling cyan foam on the top. Just past the curtain is a smooth, flat rock, slightly wetted by the pond water, with a patch of sunlight right on the edge. The lagoon is the most beautiful thing I've seen with human eyes.

"Pretty great, huh?" Shooting Star prances through the curtain and onto the edge of the stone balcony. "Woo!"

Pine Tree gives her a lighthearted laugh and follows her up. "Come on, Bill!"

His fingers entwine with mine and he pulls me gently up. I can see the neon streaks clearly from this vantage point, and notice that as their bodies slither up and down through the water that they look more and more like brightly colored snakes. It takes me a moment before I glance down at our hands. His is warm and soft, while mine is growing clammy. I'm about to look him in the eye, but he lets me go and digs in his backpack for something.

Shooting Star eases herself off the balcony and onto the two-foot strip of sand. She steps slowly across the sand, then kneels by the water. She looks at me and waggles a finger, mouthing "Come here." I follow her and kneel beside her, my hands squeezing the soft sand between my fingers. "What are they?"

"Eels." She reaches her hand out and rests it on the surface of the water. Two eels, one blue and one purple, sidle up beneath her hand almost instantly, holding it above water. She giggles. "You can walk on them. It's neat, right?" She stands up and steps on the water. She's instantly carried as she steps to the other bank, the bright scales slithering up and slightly around her feet. "Come on!" she calls.

"I-I don't know. Are you sure it's safe?"

"As long as you don't stomp them."

Pine Tree calls down to me. "It's alright. I could never do it either. Good news is, I found the sandwiches."

"YES!" Shooting Star skips lightly across the water, calling "Thanks" down to every one of the eels.

I awkwardly clamber up onto the rock, crawling over to Pine Tree, who's holding three ham sandwiches. I take one, slowly opening my mouth and fitting as much as possible into it before biting down.

"Geez, Bill, calm down. It's not gonna swim away." Pine Tree giggles, handing another sandwich to his sister. We sit in a little circle, eating in silence. I take tiny bites, trying not to eat it too quickly. It tastes better under the dark, yet bright canopy of the lagoon. Mabel glomps hers down in three bites, but takes forever to down the carton of milk Pine Tree produces from his bag. Pine Tree's eating his symmetrically, placing each bite directly before the last. I'm trying to replicate him, but I sometimes take a big bite and then a small one and it messes it all up. Pine Tree notices my frustration and laughs.

"You don't have to eat it perfectly. I just eat this way because my brain likes patterns. Here." He pushes the half-eaten sandwich up to my face. "Just eat it."

I oblige, and soon it's gone. He nudges the milk carton towards me, and I take it and take tiny sips of it. I make it last until they're both done.

After eating, Pine Tree goes and inspects a flower, leafing through his journal to find its name. His face is concentrated, but the place we're in prevents it from looking frustrated. He grins at the flower for no reason, the sunlight reflecting off his face. I watch from a crouched position on the edge of the stone balcony. Shooting Star is busy lying facedown on a bed of eels.

After an hour of absent messing around, we start heading back. I'm slightly less loud and obnoxious, walking through the forest, but it's short lived, because Pine Tree has to help me out of a bramble, and that requires very close physical contact.

It's like time stops. My heart thunders in my ears as he struggles to untwist me from the bramble. Afterwards, I'm way too hot and flushed to walk quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

I lay on my back in my bed, staring at the backs of my hands. Every three minutes, I check my pulse. It's steady now that I'm away from Pine Tree, but I check it often, because every time I manage to calm myself down, my pulse shoots back up and the room starts feeling stuffy.

Once I'm stable again, I pull up the internet. I look up every symptom I have, but I'm pretty sure my body isn't anemic, I've been drinking too much to be dehydrated, my blood sugar is normal, and I'm not riddled with PMS. So I look up pictures.

I end up with a lot of quotes. I don't read any until I come across one titled "Signs You've Fallen in Love".

I read it, grabbing a pencil.

"Reading texts over and over" I don't text Pine Tree, though…

"You walk really slow when you're with him" I guess I'm a little clumsier than usual around him, but that shouldn't prove anything…

"You pretend to be shy" …I snort and scratch it out.

"While thinking about him, your heart races."

I feel my heart rate shoot up again and I drop the pencil. I fall back into the bed, unable to do anything. I ache. I can't move. My breath hitches.

"Uh… Bill?"

Pine Tree!

I slam the computer closed and ball up the paper.

"What? What were you writing…?"

"NOTHING. I mean… nothing… heh…heh heh…" I stare intently at my paper-holding hand and let the paper go up in blue flames.

"Bill, is this something I should be concerned about?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! I-I uhh… I'm… Just writing a…story…It's uh…" I try to think of a Dipper-repellant in my brain. "I'm writing a story…about…a book Shooting Star showed me…"

"Oh. Fanfiction then." He swipes a finger across the slightly dusty globe in the corner. "What of?"

DIPPER REPELLANT. "Uh…Twilight."

"Oh, god dude? Really? You had to get into it? Ugh. You're like, the reincarnation of my sister." He groans. "Anyway. I came up here to tell you that we just got Pad Thai, if you're hungry."

"Uh, thanks." I mentally slap myself for being so blunt. "I'll…be down in a minute."

"Right. See you then."

He exits.

 **(Author note, brought to you by a flying Dorito demon)**

Sorry about the shortness, but I felt the need to make a new chapter here, so…yeah. Thanks for all the views and the review, and…FIVE FOLLOWERS :3 You all make meh so happeh. I think I'll write the next one whilst listening to 679 by Fetty Wap. Very inspirational music...lol


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